


in nature

by Snickfic



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Fade to Black, Manhandling, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Outdoor Sex, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Scent Marking, Shame/Comfort, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26516950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/pseuds/Snickfic
Summary: “You’re saying you’re a pain in the arse when you’re in heat.”Loki took a noisy breath. After a tense moment, he nodded. It cost him something, she could see: the scalpel of need slicing away one layer of dignity at a time. She doubted he was one of those that could see themselves through their heat on their own if there was any other option available.“So you’re just like normal, then,” she said.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Loki (Marvel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	in nature

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "peeing someone gently into submission."

“What’s wrong with you?” Val demanded, sometime in the middle of the third day after the crash. At least, she thought it was the third day. It was hard to tell time on a planetoid with three suns. 

Loki scowled ferociously. “I’m marooned on this rock with you for company. What do you _think_ is wrong?”

Val wanted to leave it. She’d gotten along for a very long time by not giving a shit, and if there was anyone in the universe less rewarding to give a shit about than Loki, she hadn’t met them—except he’d been all right for the first day or so. They’d drunk the shuttle’s entire stock of liquor between them—not difficult—and Loki had told stories on Thor that might’ve been at least half true. It hadn’t been the worst. 

Val peered closer. “You’re flushed,” she said. She grabbed his wrist and confirmed her suspicions. “Your pulse is too fast, you’re sweating, and—Godsdamn.” She’d gotten a good lungful of his scent, rich and unmistakable.

Loki snatched his hand away. “It’s no concern of yours.”

“You’re in heat,” she said. She should have realized sooner. He must have been masking his scent somehow for her not to notice.

“Yes, I’m _aware_ , thank you.” His eyes had gone dark; he must have gotten a whiff of her, too. His breath was shallow and unsteady. There was a miserable tension in the muscles of his face that Val found herself wanting to soothe. 

That’d be the lure of his scent working on her. Still. “You want me to help?”

Abruptly his hazy focus sharpened and fixed on her. “I think I shall decline,” he said, in tones that very clearly said _fuck off_.

Fine.

Loki disappeared into the shuttle. Val tried not to think about what it’d smell like in there by tomorrow, soaked through with demand and invitation and plea all at once: _fuck me, fuck me, fuck me_. He’d be in there with something up his ass, trying to fuck himself and fuck his hand at the same time, groaning with need—

And now Val was hot for him. Arousal throbbed. Clearly she’d be sleeping in the great outdoors for the night and looking for a little relief herself.

When she got hungry a couple of hours later, she stood at the shuttle door and called, “I’m coming in.” She waited a good minute or two, listening to muffled curses and a collision that sound like it hurt, before she entered. “Just getting food,” she said, and then tried not to inhale. Already the place smelled horrific, delicious, like the best and worst and only thing in the world. Keeping her eyes fixed on the rations crate, she grabbed her nutrient bars and her water and escaped as quickly as she could.

She’d just eaten the last bite when Loki shoved his head out the door. He was clutching the blanket from the emergency kit wrapped around his hips. His hair was limp with sweat, and even from across the clearing, Val could clearly see the too-rapid rise and fall of his chest. 

He met her eyes. The misery was written in bold across his face and in the lines of his shoulders. They looked at each other a moment, wordless. At last Val said, “You change your mind?”

With a mulish set to his jaw, Loki said, “I’m difficult.”

That was not any of the possible answers Val had anticipated. “Okay?”

“Whatever enjoyment you’re expecting to get from the experience, I can promise you’ll be disappointed.” He didn’t say this as though it brought him any particular satisfaction. He said it angrily, but not, she thought, because he was angry with her.

Val pushed to her feet and approached. Loki watched her progress hungrily. She stopped a little ways away—enough for them both to keep their hands firmly to themselves, to leave if they wanted to—and said, “You’re saying you’re a pain in the arse when you’re in heat.”

Loki took a noisy breath. After a tense moment, he nodded. It cost him something, she could see: the scalpel of need slicing away one layer of dignity at a time. She doubted he was one of those that could see themselves through their heat on their own if there was any other option available.

“So you’re just like normal, then,” she said.

His gaze snapped up to meet hers. Now he was furious—but at her, not at himself. “How dare—”

“I’ll help you, if you want.” 

For a moment Loki only glared, breath heaving with fury and misery. Finally, he said, “If you would.”

Val crossed the small distance between them, put her hands to Loki’s shoulders, and pressed him up against the side of the shuttle. This close, she could smell how ready he was, how ripe. Fuck, she wanted him. She wanted to devour him. She tangled her fingers in his sweat-damp hair, pulled him down, and took his mouth with hers. 

Kissing him still—swallowing him, claiming him—Val shoved the blanket from his hips and gripped his cock. Loki moaned into her mouth, loud and hungry, altogether beyond shame. It was enough to get anyone’s engine going. It was, Val thought distantly, pretty damned enjoyable. How about that. “Get the blanket,” she murmured. “Stretch out on it, on your back.”

Loki stiffened. “Make me.”

Val drew back and looked him in the eye. There was defiance in every line of his body, but in his eyes there was something else, too: a wary, desperate yearning. “You’re sure,” Val said.

Loki nodded sharply. “Please don’t—don’t make me ask again.”

If he wanted it rough, Val could oblige. She yanked him away from the shuttle’s hull—all the easier for how stiffly he’d been holding himself—and swept his feet out from under him. He landed on the clearing’s leafy groundcover instead of the blanket, but no matter. Val straddled him in one smooth move.

He fought her. That desperate hunger never faded from his eyes, but nor would he lie still where she put him. He tried to wriggle out from under her until she finally pinned his wrists above his head. And then, somehow, he managed to clock her in the chin with his elbow. “Damn you,” Val said, taking a moment to breathe through it. “You’re a fucking piece of work.”

She felt his flinch between her thighs. His eyes squeezed shut; he swallowed hard. He was one single line of tension from the top of his skull to the base of his spine. He hadn’t gotten off yet, either. He was hard and flushed and frustrated, and now he was trying—and failing really badly—not to ler her see she’d hurt his feelings.

 _Difficult_. That was one way to put it. 

Val stroked Loki’s chest. He shuddered at the touch, but maybe not the good kind of shudder. Quietly, he asked, “Are you going to fuck me now?”

She could. It’d probably even serve the purpose; it’d blunt the edges of his need, at least for the moment. It’d give her a chance to go digging in the emergency supplies for a dildo and figure out an alternative if that didn’t pan out. It’d been a bit since she’d put her hand in someone.

Val shifted her weight, considering it. As she did, an altogether different need came to her notice, sitting heavily in her gut. 

Hmm.

Val climbed carefully off of Loki. “Stay. Don’t fucking move.” 

And for a wonder, he didn’t. Maybe words took him down as readily as a calculated foot hooking behind his heels. He watched with that same wary desperation while she shed her clothes—they, at least, went on the blanket. When she was bare, she settled on him again. “You still want to fight me? Tell the truth,” she added, pinching at the tender skin over his ribs.

Loki flinched, a purely physical response. “Yes,” he whispered. He looked so fucking unhappy about it. 

“But you want me to fuck you. You want to be mine. You want me to _make_ you mine.” 

Loki nodded jerkily. Hopelessly.

Val tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged his head sharply back. He grunted in discomfort and something else: the flush of arousal. “So I’m going to. I’m going to mark you, so everyone knows you’re mine, so you can’t ever fucking forget it. As long as your heat lasts, anyway. Agreed?”

She met Loki’s wide-eyed stare. He didn’t believe her, it was obvious; it was just as obvious how badly he wanted to. Now, in the throes of heat, he was desperate to be caught and captured and tamed. “Agreed,” he whispered.

Val shifted. Arousal thrummed through her, and that made it hard to relax, to let go. 

“Are you—”

“Shhh,” Val said. She concentrated, and there, finally, she felt the first trickle of piss leave her.

It took Loki a moment to realize what was happening. “I will _not_ —”

“Yeah you will, and you’ll love it.” Val clenched shut, dropped her hand between her legs, and brought some of the moisture to Loki’s nose. 

His nostrils flared, and then his whole body seized in a sharp breath. “Please,” he said.

“Here? Or on your face?”

It was apparent from Loki’s inhale which of those options he preferred. 

“Don’t move,” Val said. She shoved up just enough to shift forward and settle onto Loki’s face. She felt his tongue lap against her. She tugged his hair. “I’d close my eyes for this,” she said. Then, slowly, she let go. 

She’d drunk quite a bit of water earlier. It was something to do, while she’d not been thinking about Loki’s heat or how far away rescue must still be or any of the myriad other, older concerns she spent a lot of her time not thinking about. Now she was glad of it, because it meant there was plenty of piss to go around. She tried to draw it out, to give each drop plenty of time to trace the contours of Loki’s face before being urged on by the next. Loki shifted underneath her, not far, only accommodating himself to what she was giving him.

A new odor rose up, different from the earthiness of Loki’s need or the fragrance of the plants he’d crushed underneath him where he’d fallen. It was a heady mixture; in this moment, mixed in with those other scents, there was something addictive about it. Val breathed it in.

At last she was empty. She pushed carefully up, away from Loki’s face, and settled on the ground by his head. He was soaking wet. He breathed carefully while wetness clung to his lashes and dripped away into his hairline. It glistened on his lips. “Keep your eyes closed,” Val said, and then carefully she wiped them clear. “All right,” she said.

Loki opened them at last. He stared at her with a kind of wonder. 

“Better?” Val said.

Loki licked his lips. It was a hell of a sight. Carefully, he nodded.

They were already in way deep, here, deeper than she’d gone into anyone’s heat in a long, long time. Might as well go all the way. Val bent close and kissed him. She got the sharp taste of herself on her tongue; it filled her nose. “Mine,” she said, when she withdrew.

“Yes,” Loki said, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it.

“How about I fuck you now?” Val said.

“Yes,” Loki repeated, breathless and, for the first time, hopeful. A very good sound indeed.

\--

It might’ve been the fourth day when Val stirred. Then again, it might’ve been the fifth. She lay there for a while and took stock of her surroundings: the pebbles and sticks digging into her bare skin and Loki’s warm, sticky presence at her back. 

She sat up. As she did, Loki stirred awake, too. She watched his eyes flutter open and saw on his face the moment he remembered where he was and what they’d been doing. He set his jaw like he expected her to give him a hard time about it—as though she hadn’t given him plenty enough of a hard time for the past day and a half, to their mutual enjoyment.

After the silence had drawn out for a while, Loki shoved grudgingly upright. “I should thank you, I suppose,” he said.

“Probably,” Val agreed.

“Yes, well.”

Val waited for a few beats, but nothing actually comprising a _thank you_ seemed to be forthcoming. Oh, well. She said, “You lied.”

Loki’s expression darkened. “About what?”

Val shrugged. “That line about being difficult. You were right about being a lot of work, but you were fun, too. I’d do it again.”

Loki stared at her with his brows drawn, full of mistrust and waiting for the joke. 

His hair hung in lank, filthy clumps around his face. Even from where Val was sitting, with her nose nearly insensible from the scent overload of the past hours, she could still smell him. Herself, too. There they both were, naked as babes and utterly filthy, exhausted of all possible sexual impulse for some time to come, and yet Val still felt a certain satisfied glow in seeing Loki like that, smelling herself on him like that.

She cupped his jaw. He inhaled sharply, rigid, and she leaned in and kissed him. He stank, he tasted of god-scale morning breath, and that crustiness on his skin was probably half dried piss and half hours-old sweat. Objectively, it was a disgusting kiss. 

When she let him go, he had that light in his eyes she’d seen before, that sort of awed wonder that a person could get used to. “Next time,” she said. “If you want. Let me know.”

Not the worst. Val had been right the first time. She pushed to her feet and, under the eye of three alien suns, she went to look for breakfast.


End file.
